


Or Worse - Paisley

by QueenThayet



Series: Adaptation AU [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: inceptiversary, Drabble, Flirting, M/M, Not together YET, visible emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11415738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: Everyone has some sort of adaptation/mutation that alters their physical appearance. It's not fair that Arthur's broadcasts his emotions on his skin.





	Or Worse - Paisley

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for last year's AELDWS challenge. I'm thinking of doing more with this AU though, I really liked the concept.

It really wasn't fair. Of all the adaptations he could have had, Arthur got stuck being a human mood ring. His sister’s was limited to her hair. Which she could shave off, or hide under a hat. Instead, Arthur’s feelings were broadcast on his skin. 

It was fucking annoying. People ignored the words coming out of his mouth when his skin colored or patterned (even though they didn’t know what each color or pattern or combination signified). And it made his job harder. A calm demeanor was hard to feign when his skin was turning ice blue with suppressed rage. So he stopped trying. He wore three piece suits and make up sometimes, but mostly he just developed a reputation as excruciatingly honest with zero tolerance for incompetence. He learned to adapt. 

Of course, that was before he started working with Eames. Fucking Eames. Eames who made Arthur turn purple with lust (no, he didn’t know why purple meant lust). Eames whose adaptation allowed him to change his appearance entirely, and was criminally sexy in whatever form he took. So Arthur started wearing foundation every day. And gloves. But it was impossible to completely hide his skin. And Eames noticed. Arthur would look up and see Eames staring at his wrist where his glove was riding up, or a spot on his neck where the foundation had rubbed off. And he’d know he was purple. Or worse – paisley. But Eames never said anything, just looked. Stared, really.

“It’s my adaptation,” Arthur said testily, one day when he caught Eames staring. 

“Yes, I know, darling, you’re rather infamous.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare?”

“Sorry, pet, it’s just rather lovely, that’s all.”

When Eames averted his eyes, suddenly Arthur found that he missed his gaze.


End file.
